What flavour of jelly will you be?

How much of a child's personality is shaped by their disability? Who would they be if the autism suddenly disappeared?

Here's another quote from Jodi Picoult's Aspie character, Jacob, from House Rules. (Are you getting the feeling that I loved the book?)

"Once Theo asked me if there was an antidote for Asperger's, would I take it?

I told him no.

I am not sure how much of me is wrapped up in the part that's Asperger's. What if I lost some of my intelligence, for example, or my sarcasm? What if I could be afraid of ghosts on Halloween instead of the color of the pumpkins? The problem is that I do not remember who I was without Asperger's, so who knows what would remain? I liken it to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that you peel apart. You can't really get rid of the peanut butter without taking some of the jelly as well, can you?"

I disagree. I love my kids and my brothers for who they are, but if there was a way to make life -- touching, experimenting, relating, dressing, eating, working, learning, expressing -- easier for them, I would.

I know the churchy stuff about hard things building strong character, but when the disability is a lack of coping skills like endurance, adaptability, and impulse control, rather than growing them outward and upward, the pain of butting up against the world often makes children on the spectrum retreat further into themselves. If you misread the world, chances are you won't get the lesson of pain either.

And I don't share Jacob's fear that my kids wouldn't be themselves without the disability. While it's true that kids on the higher end of the autism spectrum are often articulate, curious, intelligent, endearing, unique, and precocious, it wasn't the autism that made them that way; it was God. All of us are who we are, and we love each other for it. But none of us is exactly who we were meant to be. We are broken, imperfect, beautiful walking images of the living God.

I don't for a minute dream of giving birth to anyone other than who I have. I don't waste time wishing my kids were different. I'm not waiting for an antidote. But I do look forward to the day when love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control will rule in every heart and each of us will be more like our true selves, the perfect unique person God intended all along.

He knows what's peanut butter in us and what's pure jelly. He could separate them without losing any sweetness. But I have the feeling our destiny will look more like this: he'll transform our rancid peanut butter into Nutella.

Mmmm.